The Border Boys Along the St. Lawrence

At that instant those on board the smugglers’ craft saw the swift little tender cutting across to head her off. They dashed ahead at full speed.

“What’s their game now?” demanded Ralph excitedly.

“Heading for the Canadian line,” was the chief inspector’s brief response. “Give her more speed, boy, she mustn’t slip through our fingers now.”

“I’ll burn up the engines,” declared Percy.

“Never mind that,” shot out Ralph; “burn up the boat, but we’ve got to get them!”

The fever of the chase was in his veins. He felt as if his life depended on catching the other craft. The tender was now on a course which must bring her across the craft’s bows. As they drew near, the chief inspector stood up.

A revolver was in his hand. His two aides drew close to him with grim, determined looks.

“Stop that boat!” hailed the chief inspector, in round, ringing tones.

There was no reply.

“Heave to, or I’ll send a shot into you!” he cried threateningly.

“Who in blazes are you?” came back a shout from the other craft.

“Inspectors of the United States Customs Service!” came the sharp response. “Heave to!”

“Go to the dickens! You can’t bluff us! We’re for the Canadian line!” came back a taunting shout.

Bang! A shot whizzed across the bows of the fleeing motor boat.

“The next will come closer,” warned the inspector.

There was a hurried consultation on board the other craft. Angry voices arose. It was plain that some were counseling surrender, others flight. In the midst of it all came Malvin’s voice.

“All right. We give up and be hanged to you.”

The tender ranged alongside the other craft. The engines of the latter had been stopped; she lay motionless on the water. But the inspectors were alert for a trap. Perhaps the men on the Artful Dodger had one ready, but the sight of the armed officials caused them to undergo a change of mind.

Just as they ranged alongside, there came a snarl of rage from Malvin as his eyes lighted on Ralph. Beside himself with fury, he sprang at the lad with the ferocity of a tiger.

“Confound you!” he roared. “You are to blame for all this!”

Ralph caught the fellow by the wrist as Malvin aimed a vicious blow at him with an oar. The next instant there was a splash and Malvin was overboard. There was not much fight left in him when they fished him out.

In the meantime La Rue had been detected in the act of attempting to conceal a leather wallet. The chief inspector wrenched it from him, and it was found to contain the gems all intact.

Rawson submitted to arrest more quietly than had been expected, as did the redoubtable Slim. On the way to the River Swallow, with the Artful Dodger in tow, Malvin admitted having stolen the old man’s boat while he and Ralph were at breakfast, and said that it could be found on Windmill Island.

“Now, if I only had my boy back, I should be happy,” sighed the old man, as he heard of the safety of his beloved skiff.

“You’d better tell him, La Rue,” said Malvin, to his sullen comrade.

“Well, if you want to know,” said La Rue, after a pause, “your precious grandson is in the Mercy Hospital in Cardinal.”

“In the hospital?” gasped the old man. “Jimmie?”

“Yes. Those brats on their River Swallow can tell you how he came there. As for me, all I know about the little whelp is that he was blown ashore on the island one night in a storm. He sought shelter in the windmill tower and overheard us while we were discussing our plans. It did not suit our policy to let him go and blab all he knew to the outside world, so we kept him there until that explosion resulted in Stetson and the other pups taking him away.”

“Oh, thank heaven, Jimmie is found!” exclaimed the old man.

“I guess you won’t enjoy each other’s company long,” sneered Rawson. “The kid’s going to die.”

But Jimmie didn’t die. In fact he soon recovered, and is now in the employ of Mr. Stetson. The railroad king arrived home from Montreal in time to see the rascals who had placed him in such an embarrassing dilemma in Montreal, arraigned in the police court at Piquetville and held for the United States authorities. All received terms in the Federal prison and took their sentences according to their dispositions. Hansen was never heard of again, and as he was only a pawn in the great gem smuggling game, he was not sought after.

Mr. Stetson received a handsome apology from the Canadian government for its embarrassing mistake. He has had it framed, and it hangs in his library, where he shows it to visitors as a great joke. Naturally, this leads to a recital of the part that Ralph and his chums played in breaking up the gem smuggling gang on the Canadian line.

Old man Whey is happy on his island, and Mr. Stetson has seen to it that he has everything he desires. Windmill Island was purchased by a wealthy New Yorker not long after the events we have described, and turned into a handsome summer home. The old tower, the scene of so many lawless scenes, is now a lighthouse, and thus good has come out of evil.

The Border Boys have once more proved their right to the title by the stirring times in which they participated along the Canadian frontier. It is not likely that they will ever forget a single detail of their experiences on the mighty St. Lawrence. Harry no longer believes in the supernatural. That night when the gang met its fate laid the “ghost” of superstition for once and all in his mind.

And now, having brought our tale to a conclusion, we will bid God-speed to the Border Boys. Wishing them well in all they may undertake in the future, and a happy issue to all the adventures which such enterprising young spirits are likely to encounter, we will bring this latest volume of their experiences to a close.

THE END